


Foreplay?

by trans_pickles



Series: Letters From Mordhaus [3]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Almost Sex, Awkward Kissing, Casual Sex, Crying During Sex, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Loving Sex, M/M, Murderface is bad at feelings, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse Implied, Porn with Feelings, Quickies, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-09-30 14:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10164575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trans_pickles/pseuds/trans_pickles
Summary: Murderface is sexually experienced, possibly even more so than Toki. But one thing he's not so familiar with is a partner who actually cares about him.





	

There wasn't really any special occasion, but then again, there never had to be one. Sex with Toki was an event in itself, no matter how casual it seemed to be.

Their first hookups were just quickies, nothing special, handjobs and necking in darkened storage closets after a show. Fast, to-the-point, almost impersonal - well, as impersonal as anything involving Toki Wartooth could be. Not at all different from Murderface's previous experiences with guys. At least Toki wasn't forcing him to go down on him in a truck stop bathroom.

Willy still wasn't quite sure what had made Toki choose  _him,_ of all people. True, maybe Toki didn't attract quite as many sex-crazed groupies as Skwisgaar, but it was still a rare concert when no one ended up propositioning him for sex, even if only for the fact that Skwisgaar might happen to be unavailable at the time. But no, when the rest of Dethklok was off writing the next album, when Toki could have been doing anything (or  _anyone)_ he wanted, he was pressed up against him, nuzzling his nose into the crook where the nape of Murderface's neck met his broad shoulders, his mustache tickling Murderface's dry, rough skin. But hell, Willy wasn't about to question it.

Toki's hands slid down to the small of Murderface's back, pulling him in even closer than he already was. In response, Murderface let out a soft, high whine, grinding his growing bulge against Toki's thigh. He didn't even have his clothes off yet, but he was already _so goddamn close._ It was incredible, the effect that Toki had on him.

Toki pulled away, staring deep into Murderface's eyes. "My rooms?"

Murderface paused for a moment. They were totally alone, he didn't see why they couldn't just do it here, in the hallway. Even if a Klokateer happened to come across them, those guys were at least respectful. They'd just turn and walk away.

"Moidaface?"

Toki was looking at him with that face he made, that awful face that meant, sooner or later, he'd want Murderface to tell him about his  _feelings._

Willy nodded. "Schure," he said, hoping Toki couldn't hear the way his voice trembled with anticipation. _Fuck, he'd never done it in a bed before_. "Y-your room."

Toki smiled, and  _god fucking dammit_ he was so _beautiful_ it made Willy's chest hurt. That was another thing about Toki - he was honestly  _beautiful_. Not just hot, or sexy (although to be fair, he was both of those things as well), but gorgeous, lovely, exquisite. There weren't enough words in the English language to describe how attractive he was. It was almost enough to make him want to learn another language, just for  _more words._

Still smiling, Toki took Murderface's hand, leading him down the passageways, towards the wing of Mordhaus containing the Dethklok members' respective bedrooms. "Sorry I ain'ts gots a big beds like yous," said Toki apologetically as he opened his bedroom door, "but we cans makes dos, rights?"

Willy just nodded. He'd made do with far less than a bed in the past, after all.

Gently but firmly, Toki grasped him by the shoulders, indicating with a slight push that he was to lie down on the bed. Eagerly, Willy obliged, fumbling to kick his muddy boots off before pulling his feet up on the bed. He tugged at his shorts, fumbling with the zipper before he was stopped by a movement of Toki's hand.

"Waits," was all he said, and a very confused Murderface obeyed. Taking his time, Toki knelt in between Willy's spread legs, peeling his shirt away from his torso. Willy averted his eyes from Toki's abs, trying to keep himself from staring, when he remembered,  _wait,_ they were having sex, he could look at Toki's body _all he wanted!_ He didn't have to look back on his own, though. With a little laugh, Toki pressed a finger to Willy's cheek, turning his face himself.

"You can looks if you wants," he giggled. "I don'ts minds."

"O-okay."

It seemed like an eternity before Toki got his shirt fully off, but when he finally did he leaned over Willy, now reaching for the hem of his shirt. As he began to undress him, Willy felt an automatic, instinctive twist in his gut. Why was Toki taking his shirt off? He was fat, and flabby, and hairy, and  _ugly._ This didn't make sense.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Toki looked at Willy, surprised.

"I thought we was havin's sex," he said, confused.

"W-well, I mean, we  _are,_ but... do ya gotta take my schirt off?"

"Not if you don'ts wants to."

"It'sch grossch," Willy said.  _I'm_ _gross,_ he wanted to say.

Toki's face fell, and Willy instantly regretted what he said.

"Not you," he hurriedly corrected. "It'sch juscht I don't hafta have my schirt off for thisch, right?"

"I guess," Toki said reluctantly. Willy could tell he was still a little upset, but he very quickly forgot it when Toki dove in for a kiss.

That was another thing he wasn't used to, the kissing. He always expected Toki to be rougher with him (or maybe he was just projecting). But no, Toki was gentle, gentler than Murderface thought was appropriate or deserved. He could feel Toki smiling against his mouth as they kissed - seriously, what kind of guy would smile kissing  _him?_ It just didn't seem normal. The only reason he could see Toki doing any of this would be to get something from him, something besides sex. Maybe he wanted more control in the band, or maybe having sex with someone who was objectively worse than him in every way made him feel better about himself, or maybe he just wanted to lead Willy on, or maybe, or maybe, or maybe...

Toki pulled away.

"Moidaface?" he asked, the concern overwhelmingly apparent in his voice. "Somethin's wrongs?"

Willy's throat tightened. He didn't want Toki to worry about him. He wasn't worth worrying about. It didn't matter how good it felt to pretend someone cared about him, especially someone as good as Toki. He wasn't worth it. He didn't deserve it. Nothing was the matter, nothing at all.

"Why?"

Fuck.

"Why?" Toki echoed, his concern turning into a sort of baffled worry. "Why whats?"

"Wh-why me?" Murderface muttered, his face turning red. "Why d'you wanna do all  _thisch_ with me?"

Toki's face softened.

"Moidaface," he said softly, "I likes you a lot-"

"Don't," he snarled, pushing Toki off him. "Don't fucking lie to me. You-you gotta want  _schomethin'_ from me, why elsche would you do this? I'm not nische, or schmart, or hot, or good at fuckin'  _anything._ 'M just grossch and fat and schtupid and-"

"Williams."

Toki took Murderface's face in his hands. With his thumb, he gently brushed away the tears rolling down his face - Willy hadn't even realized he'd been crying.

"I loves yous," he said, and Willy's heart almost stopped. "I loves yous, and I wants to be arounds yous all the times. I really dos. I wanna makes you feels goods abouts you-selfs."

Toki's hands moved down to Willy's shoulders, down his arms - Willy winced as Toki's fingers grazed across his old scars, but he either didn't notice or didn't mention them - to his hands. Softly, tenderly, he took Murderface's big calloused hands in his own, bringing them up to his face, pressing kiss after kiss against the rough, scarred skin.

"You gots nice hands," he said absently.

"They're grossch and fat," replied Willy. If his hands were free, he'd use them to cover his face, hiding the blush spreading across his face. Toki shook his head.

"No they ain'ts," he said. "They's real nice strong hands. So's that's one goods things abouts yous." Releasing his hands, Toki bent down, leaning his head against Murderface's stomach. "And you's tummy ams softs and rounds and squishy."

"Are you gonna keep going?" muttered Murderface, his blush now spreading to his neck. "Caushe it scheemsch like you're gonna run outta good thingsch to schay real quick."

"Nopes!" said Toki excitedly. "I ain't gonna runs outs anytimes soons."

Thankfully, he stopped there - Willy honestly thought he might overheat if he kept going. Instead, Toki wrapped his arms around him, pulling him down to the bed, wriggling the sheet out from under them and then pulling it up to cover both of their bodies.

"We can stays like this for a whiles," Toki murmured. "If you likes."

Murderface opened his mouth to protest, but found that, if he thought long and hard about it, he had nothing against it.

"Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> i switch between calling Murderface "Willy" and "Murderface" a lot lmao


End file.
